


Spectator Sports

by Dragon_Lord



Series: High School AU [6]
Category: Zoo (TV)
Genre: Chloe being wise, F/M, Football Games, High School AU, Mitch being stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11075676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Lord/pseuds/Dragon_Lord
Summary: A High School AU in which everyone loves football except for Mitch.





	Spectator Sports

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!

_December – Sophomore Year_

 

 _You’re here to support your friends,_ Mitch had to remind himself for the fifth time in half an hour. As yet another overly-enthusiastic fan jostled past him in a hurry, nearly spilling nachos right into Mitch’s lap, he said it to himself again. _Support friends, support Jackson, support Abe._

Not like he’d come here of his own free will, after all. It was all Jamie’s doing. If she and Chloe hadn’t shown up at his house an hour ago with an extra school scarf and three tickets to the football game, he would’ve still been holed up in his room, studying for his Calculus midterm. Instead, he was shivering on a cold, metal stadium seat and watching a sport he didn’t even understand, waiting for the girls to come back with snacks. What a wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

\---

“Are you sure Mitch is all right by himself?” Chloe asked with a knowing grin. “He may try to escape.”

Jamie laughed, inched forward in the concession line. “Nah, he’s not going anywhere without his car. He’ll be fine once we bring him some hot chocolate.”

It seemed that hot chocolate was the drink of choice for the afternoon, along with coffee and hot tea. Fellow game-goers left the stand clutching steamy drinks with chilled fingers. Jamie herself tightened her scarf around her neck and did a little stomping dance in effort to keep warm.

“Why are so many outdoor sports played in the cold months?” she said.

Chloe shrugged, tucking a stray hair back into her red knit hat. “Because if they were played in the summer, we’d all get heat stroke.”

“Yeah, but is frostbite any better?” Jamie replied. “I’ve lost feeling in half of my toes!” They were almost to the front of the line and she could practically taste the hot chocolate now.

The other girl put a comforting arm around Jamie’s shoulder. “I’ll lend you my thermal socks next time.”

\---

It was when something exciting had happened on the field, when half the stadium stood up and cheered, and when Mitch was seriously contemplating walking home, that Chloe and Jamie finally returned. They settled back into their seats on either side of him and Jamie passed him a warm cup of hot chocolate.

Taking it, he said, “I hate you both. I hope you know that.”

Chloe giggled. “Come on, would you really rather be stuck at home studying?”

“Instead of hanging out with us?” Jamie added.

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

The answer earned him light smacks on both arms and he managed a small chuckle. But the sound died in his throat as a strong gust of cold wind blew their way and Jamie was forced to grasp his arm and scoot closer to him, trying in vain to siphon some of his body heat. Mitch blamed his red cheeks on the chilly air and ignored Chloe’s snort of laughter beside him.

“So, what’s the score?” Jamie asked.

He squinted at the far end of the field, where the decrepit scoreboard stood. The school hadn’t yet upgraded to digital, and a pair of shivering students sat nearby to change out the flaking numbers. Looks like he didn’t have it all bad.

“Uh, six to eighteen? I think we’re winning.”

“We are,” Chloe confirmed with a smile. She cupped her hands around her mouth to give a loud cheer for Jackson and Abe.

Jamie clapped along with her. “Ethan’s meeting us in a little while,” she said. Mitch resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the mention of the current smug jerk that she was dating.

“Great,” he managed to say with little enthusiasm. He could feel Jamie’s eyes on him, probably irritated with his reaction, and decided to distract her. With a vague gesture toward the field, he said, “So what’s going on right now, exactly?”

It worked. She seemed surprised at the question, but wasted no time in providing a detailed explanation. Something about the quarterback and a line of scrimmage and a first down, whatever the hell all that meant. Mitch tried to follow along but it just wasn’t clicking with his science-oriented brain. He turned to Chloe desperately.

“How are you understanding this?” he asked. “You grew up in France—you don’t even have football over there!”

She shrugged. “No, we have rugby. But the rules are similar.”

“C’mon,” Jamie laughed, “it’s not that complicated!”

Mitch sighed. “You know what, we’re winning. That’s all that really matters.”

“Fair enough.”

It was painfully obvious how often Jamie checked her watch during the next half hour of the game. Apparently, Ethan was late. No surprise there. The guy was always showing up later than expected with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. It took all of Mitch’s willpower to keep his mouth shut each time, but he wasn’t perfect.

“So Evan’s not coming, then?”

“You know his name,” Jamie corrected evenly. “And I was just about to call him, actually.”

She had her phone out, scrolling through her contacts (ugh, she’d even put a little smiley face emoji next to Ethan’s name, come on). A loud cheer erupted from the crowd just as she put her phone up to her ear. With a small frown, she held up a finger to Mitch and stood to make her way out of the stadium. He waved in understanding and tried to turn his attention back to the game.

 _Tried_ being the operative word.

“So…” Chloe started with a knowing grin. “Evan, huh?”

He kept his eyes stubbornly on the field. “I’m not good with names, you know that.”

“No, you’re good with names. You’re not good with people. And you’re really not good with boys Jamie likes.”

“It has nothing to do with Jamie, I just don’t like Ethan cause he’s a jerk.” With a chilly huff, he crossed his arms and scowled. This conversation was doing nothing to improve his mood.

“And because he’s dating Jamie.”

Mitch didn’t reply. That was confirmation enough for Chloe, whose smile softened into something kinder. Hand on his arm, she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

“You could just tell her, you know.”

He played the dumb card. “Tell her what? That I hate her boyfriend? Pretty sure she already knows that, Chlo.”

“You _know_ what.”

He had to hand it to her—Chloe was really the only one who refused to put up with his shit, and no matter what, she always managed to put him in his place. It had been something of a roadblock in their friendship early on, but from time to time, he needed it.

“Why don’t you just go talk to her?” she continued.

Rubbing his hands together for warmth, Mitch shook his head. “I—I can’t, not now.”

“Why not?” Her tone was harsher, impatient.

“Because—”

“Mitch, hey!”

 _Because of Allison,_ he finished silently.

The girl in question stood by Jamie’s vacated seat, smiling wide. Dark hair twisted into a neat plait, bundled up in a creamy white sweater, she looked great, as always. Mitch would forever wonder why on earth she was going out with him—she was miles out of his league.

He smiled on instinct. “Hey, Ally, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Without hesitation, she sat down and leaned against him, giving his left side a brief reprieve from the cold air.

“I didn’t think you’d be here either,” she said with a chuckle. “I thought you hated football!”

Mitch shrugged and Chloe, somewhat awkwardly, leaned forward to reply.

“He does,” she confirmed, “but Jamie and I forced him to come with us. We enjoy torturing him.”

There was only the briefest flicker of annoyance in Allison’s eyes as she said, “Oh, Jamie’s here, too?”

“She left to make a phone call,” Mitch said. Then, as if to reassure her, “To her boyfriend. You know, Ethan, uh, Boyd.”

“Right, right.” She seemed to relax. “Yeah, he’s in my Algebra class. Sweet guy.”

He just hummed in response. They didn’t have to agree on everything, after all.

“Actually,” Chloe said from his other side, “she’s been gone a while. Maybe I should go check on her.”

Mitch almost disagreed, almost volunteered to go himself, but with Allison there, it was probably best that he didn’t. Instead, he nodded in acquiescence as Chloe stood to leave.

\---

Chloe heard Jamie before she saw her. The empty space beneath the bleachers echoed everything tenfold, and she recognized Jamie’s voice—tight, upset. It seemed her conversation with Ethan wasn’t going as planned.

“So why didn’t you tell me that yesterday?” she asked. She finally appeared out from behind a pillar, phone to her ear, frown on her face. She hadn't seen Chloe yet and they both waited as Ethan responded. After a pause, Jamie threw an arm up in frustration. “You’re disappointing me _now_!”

Another pause as Chloe made her way closer, cautiously, not wanting to intrude. Jamie looked close to tears and she shook her head, waving away whatever response Ethan was giving her now.

“Just forget it, okay?” A pause. “No, forget it! It’s fine, it’s… Whatever, I’ll see you Monday.”

She ended the call with an irritated huff and stuffed her phone back into her pocket, making no attempt to re-join the others. Chloe approached quietly.

“He’s not coming, is he?”

Jamie didn’t seem surprised to see her there. She shook her head once, keeping her hands bundled in the front pocket of her threadbare sweatshirt. It was her dad’s, one of the few possessions of his that she’d kept after he left, and the baggy fabric swallowed Jamie’s skinny frame.

She cleared her throat, not meeting Chloe’s eyes. “He said he never agreed to going, and that he didn’t want to sit in the cold air and watch a stupid football game.”

To tell the truth, Chloe had never fully trusted Ethan. She had a sort of sixth sense about people, and the guy always seemed to give off the wrong vibe. But Jamie really seemed to like him and, as any best friend would, Chloe respected that. She wasn’t exactly friendly toward him, but at least she wasn’t openly hostile, like Mitch.

Then again, Mitch was pretty hostile with most people, so Ethan was in the vast majority.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Chloe asked quietly. Jamie shook her head.

“No,” she said. “No, I wanna see the rest of the game.”

“Do you want me to go to Ethan’s house and beat him up?”

Finally, Jamie cracked a smile.

“Maybe,” she answered. “If Mitch doesn’t do it first.”

Chloe could tell her mood wasn’t all lifted, but it was enough for now. She offered Jamie her hot chocolate and led her back up into the stadium. Both of the girls shivered as they re-emerged into the chilly air and maneuvered their way back to Mitch.

He looked up as soon as they arrived, frowning in concern.

“You okay?” he asked. Jamie’s red-tinged nose probably clued him in that something was wrong, but Jamie nodded with a half-hearted smile.

“I’m cold, is all,” she said.

“Is Ethan coming?”

“No,” she said simply. “He can’t make it. Hey, Allison.”

Allison gave a little wave from her position wrapped around Mitch’s left arm. “Jamie, good to see you.”

“You too.” Coming right out of her spat with Ethan, Jamie was clearly not in the mood to see another couple being so affectionate. The fact that it was Allison, whom Jamie had always disliked, only made things worse. She slumped in her seat and watched the football game with only a fraction of her usual enthusiasm.

Chloe could tell that spirits had dampened all around, and with half a game left, she took it upon herself to raise everyone’s morale. As Jackson made an impressive pass down on the field, she stood and cheered him on with a wide smile.

“Go Jackson! Whoo-hoo!”

The other three teens just stared at her. But, moments later, as she had hoped, her spirits were infectious. Jamie let out a small whoop and Allison whistled loudly. Even Mitch, stubborn as he was, half-heartedly encouraged the players to “throw the ball, play the sport,” and he almost seemed happy when they won. But he swore he was never going to another game.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn’t it ironic that I’ve lived my whole life in Texas and was literally raised by a football coach all that time, yet I still don’t know how the game is played? Clearly I was not paying attention at all.
> 
> Anyway, as always, drop a review and let me know what you thought!


End file.
